


Onsen

by Sonora



Series: Striker Eureka 'verse [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonora/pseuds/Sonora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc takes his hitman-in-training son to Japan for Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	Onsen

This, Herc has to admit, was a bloody fantastic idea.

He’s not in the habit of celebrating - most he normally does to recognize the season is not take so many jobs. It’s just no fun, killing people in December. Everyone wants to bitch and whine about how unfair it is, how they want to see their families one last time, blah, blah, blah. It’s irritating, and Herc’s got enough irritation in his life.

 

And this year’s different.

This year, he’s got somebody else to think of, that brat of a boy stretched out naked in the steaming hot water, in the garden beyond the warm glass. 

Expensive as fuck, this place. Fifteen hundred USD a night, without including airfare and shinkansen tickets up from Tokyo, the two days they spent at the Park Hyatt before coming up, food, that sinfully priced bottle of nihonshu Chuck is pounding like cheap whiskey…

Expensive, but worth it. Their own little slice of Japan; exclusive onsen, everything available and the staff completely unobtrusive - nigh invisible, since they got a look at that back piece Chuck’s been working on. 

Nice, being in a country that actually respects its criminal class.

Which means Herc and Chuck can do anything, fuck each other anywhere, and nobody stops them. Chuck had stripped the second they got here, pulling on one of the silk robes in the closet that’s clearly meant for a woman, the black material stretching tantalizingly across the hard muscle of his back and arse. 

Herc hasn’t bothered with clothes at all. Why? What’s the fun of buying out an entire ryokan for the week if he can’t do whatever he wants with it? What’s the fun of killing people if he can’t spend the money exactly the way he wants to.

Or rather, the way Chuck wants to, but whatever. Kid’s turning out to be almost as good an assassin as his old man, with the body of a fallen angel. No harm in spoiling him a bit. Isn’t that what a good dad’s supposed to do? Indulge his kid at Christmas?

“I’ve been thinking,” Chuck says, as Herc pads barefoot and bare-arsed out across the snowy flagstones towards him, “we should put one of these in at our place, out in the bush.”

“I think you need an actual hot springs for that.”

“There are hot springs in Oz. Steal me one.”

And with the way his brat of a son has a foot out of the steaming water, toes brushing the front of Herc’s calf as he stands at the edge of the pool, that devilish little smile on his face…

“Next Christmas.”

“Hell yeah, old man,” and Chuck turns around in the water, smiling winsomely up at him. “Come scrub my back, daddy?”

“It’s not that kind of bath,” Herc tells him, but slides in anyway, grabbing a fistful of damp ginger hair to haul his boy in for a searing hot kiss.


End file.
